


Physician, Heal Thyself

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Pretender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-12
Updated: 2006-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-25 03:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recipient requested Jarod and Sydney interaction, and face to face if possible. This is a story idea that I've had since the episode first aired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Physician, Heal Thyself

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to  <lj user="athena4lynn"> and <lj user="storydivagirl"> for their wonderful beta skillz!
> 
> Written for Ara

 

 

Sydney sat at his desk, staring at the work before him, but not really seeing it. Then again, he wasn't really seeing anything. The books on his shelves, the few framed pictures and his diplomas, the guest chairs, the rubber plant...nothing registered. Realizing his thoughts had drifted yet again, Sydney shook his head and looked back at the papers in front of him. Things had been easier when he had first started working at The Centre. He had been younger then, and had truly believed in the work that was being done. Now, after thirty odd years and all the lies, it was getting harder and harder to focus.

He had to stop participating in the Pretender program. After seeing what his actions had done to Jarod, he wasn't able to continue "shaping" the children. Not that the program had continued very long once Jarod escape. He was content to stay in his little corner of the organization, doing what he was best at - therapy.

After reading the same sentence for the third time, Sydney sighed and began shuffling the papers together, sliding them into their proper folders. He knew he wouldn't get any more work done that night. And even the prospect of going home to an empty house wasn't enough to keep him at work any longer.

Locking the files away, he looked up to see that once again he was the last person to leave for the evening. Not that there weren't still people around; The Centre was a twenty-four hour operation after all. But the remaining people were a skeleton crew and none of his usual colleagues were still around. Broots had his beautiful daughter to go home to, Parker was out on assignment. He was the only one of the old guard to spend so much time there anymore.

Halfway to the elevator, Sydney stopped. He couldn't do it, couldn't get on the same elevator, take the same drive home, eat the same dinner, and go to bed at the same time. He needed to do something different, something totally unlike him. Thinking quickly, he thought of all the things he had planned to do, but never made the time for.

_Maybe we can go fishing someday._

The voice, hauntingly sad, floated out from the dark recesses of his mind. The memory was very apropos for his mood. Well, he had been looking for something out of the ordinary. His mind made up, Sydney stepped onto the waiting elevator and began the usual trip home. On the way he made plans.

*

Three days later, Sydney found himself staring mindlessly again. This time, however, it was because he was in awe of the beauty of the forest surrounding him. There was something about this place, a feeling of peace he hadn't felt in years.

The foliage had begun to turn, creating a stunning kaleidoscope of reds, golds, and oranges. The slight chill in the air was probably more conducive to hunting, but Sydney wasn't really there for the fishing anyway. He hadn't realized just how much he needed to get away from everything.

That being said, he continued going through the motions. He had spent most of the previous day settling into the cabin he had rented, and exploring the surrounding area. Upon his return to the wood cabin, he had felt exhilarated. At one point he felt himself wishing he had a dog with him; he had never wanted or needed a dog, but an experience like this called for one. And then he chuckled at the Rockwell image he was building in his mind's eye.

That morning he had woken up early, refreshed after the best sleep he had had in...well, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt that good. Brewing himself a pot of rich, dark coffee, he packed a lunch and filled a thermos - bought especially for this trip. He also remembered to bring a couple of novels he had been putting off reading for years. Glancing around the small cabin, he decided he was as ready as could be and set off for the dock.

The cottage had come with a small powerboat, and the man from the rental agency had dubiously gone over the instructions with Sydney before leaving him in peace. Sydney wasn't sure if it was his accent that made the man doubtful of his abilities, or just the fact that he was _city folk_.

Smiling at the memory, Sydney placed his things into the craft. Standing back he realised that something was missing. He had forgotten a fishing pole. A quick run back to the cottage remedied that, but when he got back to the boat, he still felt that he needed something else before heading out.

"Hello, Sydney."

The deeply timbered voice pulled Sydney around and for a moment, he couldn't believe his eyes. Standing only a few feet away was his prized pupil. The reason for him being there, preparing to go fishing.

Jarod looked good, if a little tired. He was dressed, much as Sydney, in comfortable shoes and warm flannel. His eyes, however, were hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses. Sydney was afraid to move, he didn't want to find out he was simply seeing things.

"Aren't you going to invite me fishing, Sydney?" Jarod's warm tone held a hint of sadness behind the humour.

"Jarod, what are you doing here?" Sydney asked, finally taking a step towards his former ward.

"I was in the neighbourhood and I remembered a conversation we had a few years ago."

"It was Father's Day."

"You remember." Jarod's face lit up in obvious delight.

Sydney remembered the conversation as if it had happened yesterday. Jarod had made one of his rare phone calls to the office. They spoke of lost chances and missed family. Sydney had been taken back to the time when a young Jarod had given him a Father's Day card, and had been scolded by a startled Sydney. He hadn't wanted Jarod to have that deep an attachment to him, but they'd both known - on some level - that it was too late. Their lives were irrevocably intertwined. Jarod had ended the conversation hoping that one day, when he had stopped being chased by The Centre, they could go fishing together as Jarod had never had the chance to do with his real father. It was a hope that Sydney had secretly shared.

And now they were there together.

"Jarod," Sydney smiled, "would you like to go fishing with me?"

"I'd like that very much, Sydney."

 


End file.
